


the feeling living inside your chest

by dogmouth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Drabble, M/M, Pottertalia, Slight GerIta, slight spamano, slight usuk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:03:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4764293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmouth/pseuds/dogmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter AU. Drabble. A patronus, explained by Alfred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the feeling living inside your chest

**Author's Note:**

> [heavily inspired by this post by tumblr user thatsaddifferentstory](http://thatsadifferentstory.tumblr.com/post/127184522850/a-patronus-harry-tells-hermione-is-acing-a-test). I wanted to write my take on this idea, but I do not take credit for the original idea.

A patronus, Alfred tells Kiku, is time spent with Feliciano and Ludwig late until the library is empty and dark. It is hours spent engrossed hearing Heracles speak about ancient philosophers, hot cups of tea in the early morning when everyone is still asleep, and the first bloom of cherry blossoms in spring. And there’s a koi, swimming, and Kiku is amazed.

A patronus, Alfred tells Ludwig, is the sound of his dogs greeting him at the door when he visits home, the feel of your grandfather’s hand in yours when you walked the countryside together as a child and the wonder you felt at his words. It is the smell of fresh bread, Gilbert’s laughing face and the warmth of Feliciano in your bed. And there’s a bear, roaring, and Ludwig is blushing.

A patronus, Alfred tells Feliciano, is the wet dew on your ankles when you run under the sun, the longs naps with a belly full of pasta, and the exhilaration that tingles in your fingertips as you paint a masterpiece. It is daydreaming during class and the memories you have spending your childhood away from your family with a boy with a face you’ll never forget. And there’s a hummingbird, singing, and Feliciano is exhilarated.

A patronus, Alfred tells Lovino, is the taste of a tomato just right and the tumble of a foreign laugh that makes it past a frown. It’s hot summer days, a radio barely heard, and the look Antonio gives you that makes you feel recognized, understood. And there’s a cheetah, running, and Lovino is scowling.

A patronus, Alfred tells Ivan, is the look on your sister’s face when she wrapped a scarf around your neck, frozen lakes, and stolen sips of firewhiskey when the professors don’t look. It is being asked to join a group during lunch, standing in the observation tower counting constellations, and no longer feeling the cold grip of winter. And there’s a arctic fox, stalking, and Ivan is curious.

A patronus, Alfred tells Yao, is the sugary smell of Honeydukes, seeing baby rabbits leave their burrow for the first time, fresh rain, and reminiscing about days long past. It is your siblings greeting you when they pass in the hallway and learning a new recipe for the first time from the ghosts that linger in the hallway. And there’s a crane, gliding, and Yao is calm.

A patronus, Alfred tells Francis, is the starlight on your skin and lavender scented shampoo. It is seeing the blush spread across someone’s cheeks at a murmured compliment, owls bringing letters from your mother filled with gossip, and the feeling of the wind moving through his hair. And there’s a peacock, parading, and Francis is grinning.

A patronus, Alfred tells Gilbert, is the sound of feet echoing off the walls when a prank goes right, the fire in your throat after inhaling a cigarette for the first time, and watching Roderich’s fingers dance over the piano keys. It is remembering the feeling of Ludwig’s weight on your shoulders as you hoisted him high and the sting in your knuckles when you start a fight. And there’s a rooster, flying, and Gilbert is snickering.

A patronus, Alfred tells Antonio, is the knowledge that there’s the whole world to visit, opening before your eyes. It is late nights spent with Gilbert and Francis at your side, the smell of a full garden, the soreness of your cheeks after laughing for too long. It is the brush of Lovino’s hand against yours and seeing him fight against a smile. And there’s a bull, challenging, and Antonio is breathless.

A patronus, Alfred tells Matthew, is knowing you will arrive on time, illuminating the end of your wand to read under the covers, and fresh parchment. It is the satisfaction of wide eyes when you become captain of the Quidditch team, the students in the stands calling your name, and cleaning the feathers of your owl. And there’s a polar bear, commanding, and Matthew is tearful.

A patronus, Alfred tells Arthur, is mastering yet another potion, the smell filling your head. It is the fairies that giggle in your ear and the breathtaking moment the first time you saw a unicorn in the forest. It is your brothers shocked faces when you stand up for yourself and the moment the Sorting Hat told you you were meant for more. And there’s a robin, soaring, and Arthur is proud.

A patronus, Alfred thinks, is racing his brother high in the air back home. It is passing a test he thought he’d fail, picking out his wand for the first time, and laughing until his sides hurt. It is making Arthur feel a little less lonely in this room. And there’s a labrador, barking, and Alfred is content.


End file.
